Chapter 6 subway platform

The way the train stopped was weird, so slow and ended with a slam brake.There was a bang on the car joint, and the tip of his pen made a long stroke.Oh, here we are.He looked up from the newspaper and closed the pen cap.But outside the window is not the platform, and the dim light shines on the wall of the tunnel, sticking to the window.The cables were dusty like a smoker's lungs.This is a stopover. Half a year has passed, so why care about half a minute.He looked at his watch, it was ten past nine.Make an appointment to meet at nine o'clock.She half-joked on the phone and said, there are many people on the platform, you can't recognize my face, right?She said she would be on the platform, waiting for him as before.

This arrangement seems to be too tender, and it doesn't match her personality.After being together for two years, he has experienced enough of this proud heart, even if it is an insignificant failure, even if there is too much salt in the dishes, he doesn't like to mention it.She doesn't like to lose, and if she loses, the sooner she forgets, the better.Why did she take the initiative to bring this up?She would never have brought up the meeting again.In fact, she never took the initiative to call him in the past six months, and only sent two letters, which only talked about business and not about herself.

The car stopped, and no one in the car paid attention.A pair of young lovers were at the other end of the carriage, holding hands and looking at each other without turning their eyes.Mesmerized, what a wonderful beginning, he thought, as it all began.The drunk man on the opposite side didn't move, he was snoring, with two tears hanging from the corners of his eyes.Everyone in the car was doing their own thing, and no one was impatient with the halfway stop. They knew that everything was out of their control, and they didn't even care. them. There was only one old man, who was so old that he could barely move, with a cane hanging by his leg, tapping the floor lightly.Just that impatient, gray and pale.

He lowered his head and looked at the newspaper in his hand again.No matter how thick the newspaper is, I am already tired of reading it. Taking the subway from north to south, across the entire city, seems to have crossed a huge jet lag.The hunger in Africa and the riots in South America have been read, and they have nothing to do with him.As early as ten minutes ago, he started doing crossword puzzles.Brit stuff, it's a better way to kill time than reading newspapers. 17 (three vertical grids) is covered by water, three grids, very simple, WET. What's wrong?he thinks.This is an ambiguous word, a word that makes people's heart beat, and a word that she has repeated countless times.The first time she said, I was wet and blushing, although they had lived together there for a long time.It was also in the subway, and he said something that only they could understand.The hand she held, scratched him with her nails, and stared at him, how dare you talk nonsense again.

It is not the fact of parking, but the telling of this fact that makes the people in the car feel strange.Even the drunk man on the opposite side opened his eyes.And the lovers began to stare out the window. The driver was talking, and the English came from the loudspeaker in the carriage. It seemed to come from a far away place. The tone was dull and the syllables were vague, as if he was chanting a spell: Due to an accident at the station ahead train stop It will take some time to clean up someone fell under the car Lift her off the train to get in the station Inconvenience to passengers

Metro company begging for forgiveness He didn't quite get it, but he felt uneasy.The sound itself was unsettling, even though the words were calming.The driver repeated again, his Cockney accent was really uncomfortable, but this time he understood; and he recognized that it was a woman, her. His heart skipped a beat, a woman fell between the wheels!The whole car was silent, as if everyone had seen the tragic scene on the platform, and the drunk man murmured: Ah, a woman, a woman. 18 (horizontal five squares) forks.What kind of word is that, he thought.Forks, forks in the road, from one road to many roads, to more roads, the roads will always fork, and it will be difficult to turn back once the fork, like the branches of a tree branching further and further away.He thought, isn't this the twig? Jujube Bough?But where does the divergence begin?Is it her pride?Is it my patience?Their relationship always seemed like a paradox.In order to let me go back, she had to clean up her pride, but her failure and her despair and helplessness made his patience lose the object.If you just need to hug on the bed, that's great, even just moaning, no words are needed.He had never been able to understand her language.

He wrote the word on the anagram a little sullenly, but carefully, the grid is too small, and it is not easy for people to get together, especially in this foreign country.Meeting people is like a tree branch accidentally touching in the wind. This kind of accident and necessity should be thought of but often forgotten. "Lianlizhi" will strangle many facts, including yourself. He didn't want to think about it, he continued to do it, 19 (five vertical grids), a part of the reproductive organs of plants.Why today's anagram is full of ambiguous marks, intended to tease people.Hell, a woman's body, her body, blooms like a lily.This metaphor is too old, he used it once, and was robbed of a few words.She is a poet, twisting language like a towel this way and that, always looking for startling expressions.The calyx is pink, the petals are bright purple, and the expression of petals is still petals.

He spelled it out: PETAL. The pen dragged on the paper and drew a grid far away.It's hard to remember what he said at that time, but he remembered one sentence: let me see.She said, what are you looking at?The light was turned off with a snap.You science people want to make everything clear, while we literature people want to blur everything, the more blurred the better.He wanted to refute, but her gesture of reaching out to turn off the light was too cold.The body that was still damp from the bathroom made him suffocate. After the incident, she suddenly said: I really want us to be apart for a while.He asked: what's the matter?Is it the temperament of a poet?Nothing, just a little feeling.We still don't understand each other very well.We seem to be wrapped in more and more gauze.You want to see my body clearly, and I want to see your soul clearly, but we are becoming more and more unable to see clearly, maybe it is better to have a distance.He didn't answer. This conversation has happened many times.At first he tried to dissuade her, but later he realized that dissuasion was useless.The artist's nerves are in a foreign land, which can't help others, but can only hinder you.As usual, he snored to drown out her words.But in the middle of the night he woke up and saw her eyes wide open, looking up into the darkness, her hands pressed against her chest.

He looked at the written words: wet, branches, petals... where have you seen these words.In poetry!in her poem ?Maybe!She must see me today, why?This proud woman ignored his repeated requests for reconciliation for half a year. What made her drop her airs now?Desperate?It was half a year of loneliness that drained her soul dry!If she turns back, what should I do?When they get together again, they must be prepared to break up again. Everything about her cannot be changed, even if they are separated for six months. we were just notified The car at the front station has been cleaned up The train is about to move

MTR Corporation thanks all customers for their patience and cooperation After the carriage fell silent, the young couple applauded and whistled happily.After more than twenty minutes of waiting, even they got tired of flirting.Time changes everything, it can make an angel angry and a witch tame.Who knows how she spent the past six months, relying on writing poems!He hadn't read her poems for a long time.His circle has nothing to do with literature, let alone the Chinese literary works in those literary magazines with very few print runs.He doesn't care, poetry is already far away, just like her.Moisture, branches, petals.

The train moved slowly, gray cables blurring into a trail outside the window.Will she still wait there?Already more than half an hour late.Thinking that he might not be able to see her this time, he felt suddenly empty in his heart.If she had left disappointed, it seemed that he had purposely violated his original intention and met the delay deliberately to disappoint her.At this moment, he felt that he wanted to see her very much, hold her in his arms, let her be on his shoulders, and forget everything about the past. The train finally pulled into the station, cautiously, as if afraid of another accident.He threw away the newspaper and walked to the door of the train. The platform was crowded with people, the first southbound train in half an hour.He squeezed out of the car door, and there were faces all over the platform, all kinds of faces, and there was no familiar, pale face looking in his direction with anxiety and expectation. He walked along the platform, and the crowd gradually became thinner. Those who arrived at the station and those who got on the train all left the platform, but she was still not there. He suddenly remembered the two poems related to the word puzzle: the faces in the crowd Petals on a wet dark branch I often heard her talk about it, it was written by an American poet she admired the most and lived in London.He felt that these two lines of poems were too plain, and he didn't need a great poet to write them, but today these words made him realize a little taste, when the sound of his empty footsteps sounded on the platform. Then he went from the exit to the elevator.Where can I find her?She must know that there was an accident on the platform, so she should wait patiently. Maybe this is another test to see how deep his affection is. It would be wrong to do so. He is tired of the games between men and women, and she seems Still need these. Like these two lines, he thought.With just a few words, ordinary words, it seems too easy to do anagrams by hand.If you chew endlessly, it seems that you can really feel that happiness is so short-lived. Life is like a flower in the wind, which can wither at any time.But if you don't chew them, they are just a few useless common words. He reached the top of the elevator.The street outside was dark, it was raining lightly, and the lights were dim.At the end, there seemed to be the screams of an ambulance drifting away from the corner of the street.Suddenly he remembered that there should be an ambulance parked at this door, an accident caused by a woman, is the woman who fell under the car still alive?Why are there no traces on the platform?No one mentioned it, no one remembered it. He turned around and backed away from the drizzle on the side of the street.There should be another world behind the drizzle, a world he doesn't want to understand.He walked back to the entrance, it was time to go back.